CHAPTER 26 #2
“I do hope we aren’t intruding, sir,” she added quickly. “The attendant did say we were permitted to enter and have a look at the specimens collected by Sir Joseph Banks.”
“Yes, yes, they are open to the public, though I don’t usually see visitors here at this hour,” he replied.
She smiled and gestured to Hawk—who thankfully hadn’t yet covered his new clothing in muck. “My ward was so excited about the visit that he was up before dawn.”
“Ah—it’s always a pleasure to see a young man interested in botany.” The gentleman turned his gaze on Hawk, his silvery brows arching as he spotted the two books and pencil in the boy’s hand. “Are you taking notes, lad?”
“I’m making some drawings, sir,” answered Hawk.
“Indeed? Might I have a look?”
Hawk looked uncertain, but Charlotte gave him an encouraging nod.
“Why, these are quite good,” murmured the gentleman, after studying several of the sketches. “Are you familiar with the drawings of Franz Bauer?”
“N-No, sir.”
“Oh, you must see some of his work. He’s a master of botanical art, and worked closely here at the Royal Botanic Gardens with Sir Joseph some years ago. There’s a cabinet close by that contains a selection of his work.”
He paused as a clerk hurried in with a sheaf of papers. “Your pardon, Mr. DeVere, but I just wanted to confirm that I may send your article to the Royal Society for its upcoming journal.”
DeVere. Charlotte felt her breath catch in her throat.
“Yes, yes, all is in order,” replied DeVere with a brusque wave. As the man scurried away, he turned back to Hawk. “Come, I’ll show you, and I can point out some of the most exotic specimens in the collection along the way.” He looked to Charlotte. “Assuming that is agreeable to you?”
“Why, how very kind of you, sir,” answered Charlotte, deciding to make no mention of her name or her acquaintance with his ward. “That would be lovely.”
“Excellent.” He placed a hand on Hawk’s shoulder. “This way.”
Charlotte fell in step behind them, followed by McClellan, who dutifully maintained a respectful distance.
DeVere stopped by a raised planting bed enclosed in glass and began to identify the specimens to a wide-eyed Hawk. As he explained their history and significance, she found her mind wandering.
Despite her resolve to put all thoughts of investigation aside for this interlude, the unexpected encounter with DeVere was an all-too-sharp reminder of the conundrums within conundrums threatening her cousin.
And her friends.
Moving to the bank of brass-framed glass windows, Charlotte stared out at the idyllic scene. How could everything look so calm and peaceful when her world felt as if it was on the verge of smashing to flinders?
Her brooding deepened as she considered her last conversation with Sheffield. She was unhappy at having disillusioned him. Damnation—she liked Cordelia, too, but it was impossible to ignore how the facts added up.
What were the odds that there were two women venturing out disguised as gentlemen?
Or rather, three women. A wry grimace pulled at Charlotte’s mouth. Though dressed in her usual urchin’s rags, she would never be mistaken for a gentleman.
She sighed, her breath momentarily fogging the glass.
In truth, such masquerades probably happened far more often than people realized.
There were so many interesting places and events forbidden to women—prizefights, taverns, university lectures .
. . the list was endless. It was only natural that any female with a sense of curiosity and adventure would chafe against such restrictions.
And those with a devil-may-care courage, to go along with their imagination, had likely dared to take the risk.
After all, it was now known that women disguised as Jack Tars had fought in the gun crews at the Battle of Trafalgar . . .
A shuffling on the bricks drew her back to the present moment. “Now, if you come this way, lad, we’ll have a look at Bauer’s art. I assure you, it’s magnificent.”
Charlotte made herself stay focused for the rest of the tour. It wasn’t hard, as the drawings were indeed spectacular. She preferred the nuances of the human face, but Bauer managed to create an aura of individuality to each of his plants.
Hawk’s murmurs of admiration and shy questions earned a look of approval from DeVere. “You have a keen eye and an impressive knowledge for a lad of your age.” To Charlotte, he said, “It seems you’ve engaged an excellent tutor.”
“The young man is recently down from Oxford and came highly recommended.”
“Excellent.” DeVere nodded and turned back to Hawk.
“You have the talent to be a very good botanical artist, lad. But you must continue to work diligently at your studies.” He reached into the cabinet and took out a book.
“As inspiration, allow me to present you with a copy of Delineations of Exotick Plants Cultivated in the Royal Garden at Kew—a special compendium of Bauer’s illustrations. ”
Hawk’s eyes widened in wonder. He quickly wiped his hands on the front of his jacket before accepting the gift.
She winced, wondering how he had managed to acquire the sticky substance now streaked on the fabric.
“T-Thank you, sir.”
“You’ve been more than generous already.” Charlotte started to rummage in her reticule. “Please allow me to purchase the book—”
“Nonsense,” he replied, dismissing her protest. “You may repay me by encouraging your ward to pursue an interest in science.”
It may only have been a reflection from the glass, but his eyes seemed to take on a brighter glitter. “There are so many momentous discoveries waiting to be made, but we need minds of bold imagination and fearless curiosity.”
An eloquent speech. And yet it raised a pebbling of gooseflesh on her arms.
“You are too kind,” she murmured, deciding not to argue.
He responded with a graceful flourish. “It has been my pleasure. However, I must now excuse myself, as I have a meeting with the head superintendent in Kew Palace.”
After another round of pleasantries, DeVere turned away and followed the walkway to a staff outbuilding attached to the rear of the hothouse. Through the tall windows of the hothouse, Charlotte watched him cross the lawns and disappear behind a copse of trees.
The rattle of buckets interrupted her thoughts. Two gardeners were approaching with a barrow loaded with water and tools for tending the plantings.
“Come, we must allow the men to do their work,” she murmured.
“Wait!” protested Hawk, taking her hand and tugging her back toward the section of the hothouse that held the special collection. “You must have a look at one of the rare specimens. It’s wery, wery interesting.”
Charlotte noticed the lapse in his pronunciation, which only occurred when he was agitated. Feeling a stab of guilt over her earlier inattention, she dutifully followed along.
“See?” he said, pointing a finger at one of the terra-cotta pots lining the walkway.
“Yes, very nice,” murmured Charlotte, though she was a little surprised that it had captured his fancy. The sword-shaped leaves and center stalk of small white flowers were rather ordinary. Still, she made a show of admiring it until the clank-clank of the barrow came closer.
“Come along, sweeting,” she said, and this time he didn’t argue.
Once outside, the shadows suddenly grew deeper, and a look up at the sky showed ominous grey clouds scudding in from the west.
“Perhaps it would be best to return home,” murmured Charlotte. Seeing the troubled look on Hawk’s face, she ruffled his hair. “Don’t fret. We shall return again soon.”
The book clasped to chest, he remained strangely silent on the walk back to the waiting carriage. It wasn’t until the door clicked shut and the wheels began to bump over the road that he released a pent-up breath.
“Is something amiss—” she began.
“Curcuma longa,” said Hawk, his voice taut with excitement. “The plant I showed you is a Curcuma longa, of the Zin . . . Zingiberaceae family. Mr. DeVere said it’s a wery rare plant, and that the Royal Botanic Gardens here at Kew have the only specimen in England.”
Charlotte shook her head in puzzlement.
“The snuff!” he exclaimed. “Raven told me that Mr. Tyler received word from the botanical expert, who identified the mysterious ingredient in the snuff you found at the murder scene.”
Ye gods . . .
“I thought it best to keep mum until we were alone. But”—Hawk flashed a triumphant smile—“but it’s Curcuma longa!”